Henchman's Redemption
by xXxThe Phantom's RosexXx
Summary: As the group travels on, they come across a ruthless leader who rules with an iron fist, and who will stop at nothing to destroy them. The group soon discovers that the worst evil of their day comes not in the form of walkers, but in themselves.
1. Chapter 1

_**Henchman's Redemption**_

Author's Note: I have never read the comic series before, so please don't get angry. This is going to be AU for the sake of my story plot and for the fact that I have never read the comics and don't know much about the character of the Governor. So please don't be angry, but this will be some serious AU. Also, I am taking some stuff from my old ffs and combining them in here!

Warning: Rated T-M for violence and bad language and all that good stuff

Summary: The group discovers that the worst evil of their day comes not in the form of walkers, but in themselves.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter One:<span> Enemy**_

He knew they had to head out. They couldn't camp at that little waterfall any longer. It was nearing daybreak, and Rick needed a plan. He knew the group was losing faith in him, a faith he so desperately needed to regain. How was he supposed to know every right decision? But there he was, somehow stuck in the position of being a leader, with a group of people (even if they wouldn't admit it) looking to him for direction.

Rick was the first to wake up. The pink light of dawn was just beginning to creep across the horizon. Maybe he had been wrong…maybe Shane was right. Maybe he was the one that needed to die that night. If he had died, Shane would be in charge, and maybe – just maybe – Shane would have a better idea of what to do. Rick needed someone to talk to, to brainstorm with. Darryl had volunteered to take over the watchdog duties, allowing Rick the chance of a good night's rest. Rick looked over towards his wife who was sleeping soundly, her arm wrapped around their son. He longed to kiss her cheek, but he knew better. Lori wanted nothing to do with him. The fact that she had backed away from his touch was heartbreaking to him.

Rick turned away from his sleeping wife, and headed towards Daryl. Daryl was standing there on the ledge, keeping looking out just as he said he would. That crossbow of his was at the ready to shoot anything that moved. Rick was thankful for Daryl. Though they had had their disagreements, Daryl was strong, and Rick, in need of that kind of strength, decided to speak with him.

"Hey," he tried his best to smile, but the events of the day before still played vividly in his head, making any kind of happiness impossible.

"Hey," Daryl nodded toward him, "Did you get any rest last night?"

"Honestly?" Rick sighed, "Not a bit. I want to talk to you about last night."

"Okay," Daryl was apprehensive. Usually he and Rick didn't quite see eye to eye, and after last night's outburst, he didn't know what to expect from the man.

"What do you want me to do, Daryl?" Rick asked, he sounded so defeated as he hung his head, the question heavy as a yoke upon his shoulders.

"What do ya mean?"

"All this time, I've been tryin' to make decisions for the good of the group. I don't always know what the good decisions are, but I try. And I'm tired. I'm tired of makin' one possibly wrong move, and everyone actin' like I did somethin' unforgivable."

"Huh," Daryl grunted, "I don't think you really didn't anything wrong. No one expects you to know all the answers. At least…I don't."

"Thank you," Rick was grateful for that, "I just wish I could be that person for them. They want a leader with all the right answers and I don't think I am that person. Maybe…maybe it's all backwards. Maybe I was the one who was supposed to die last night and Shane…"

"Shane-nothin'," Daryl scoffed, "You think Shane coulda done a better job than you? Shane was a tickin' time-bomb, Rick. He killed Otis and he killed that kid. He tried to kill you. Who would be next? We wouldn't have been safe with him."

"I just wonder if he might have known more than me about this whole leadership think. Maybe he'd have been better equipped than me to…"

"Nah," Daryl kicked at the dirt, "besides, you got a wife and a kid. You know about protectin' people."

"Sometimes I just don't know if I really do…" Rick glanced over at his wife – if he could even call her that any more – and felt a pain shoot through his heart.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, "but between you and me, shootin' Shane? That was one of them good decisions."

Daryl glanced over and saw Carol sitting up by the fire, warming her hands. He wondered how long she had been up, or if she had really even slept at all. She looked cold and Daryl wished he had a jacket, a blanket – something to give to her.

Rick followed Daryl's line of sight, "Seems like you know somethin' about protectin' people too."

"What?"

Rick smiled for the first time in a while, "You know what I mean, Daryl."

"I-I just…I watch out for her," Daryl suddenly became vastly interested in the few little ants crawling across the dirt he had been kicking at.

"Lots of us can watch out for her Daryl. But you? You do so much more."

"She don't got nobody, I figure she just needs someone."

Rick nodded, "Daryl, you've always kind of gone off on your own and done your own thing."

"Yup."

"What…what would you do if you were in my position?"

Daryl ran a hand through his already messy hair, "Gee, I dunno."

"Me either," Rick sighed, "and everyone expects me to just…know. How can I possibly just know?"

Daryl shifted his weight, "Well, I think you've done I fine job so far. I'll back you on anything, you know that. But…these people? They need a say in what goes on too. We…we kinda owe it to Dale. If I were you, I'd let people vote. Highest vote rules. You shouldn't get to or have to make all the decisions for everyone."

"Yeah," Rick nodded. Daryl did have a good point, "Thank you."

"I get it though – bein' a leader is kickin' you in the ass half the time but you're the best one out of all of us to do it. But like I said, I'll back you just 'long as you don't go off and do somethin' too stupid."

"I'll try not to," Rick stared off at the horizon, "It's daybreak. We should get a move on it, huh?"

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, "Same set up as yesterday – same cars and everything. We stick together and just drive until we reach something. There's gotta be something somewhere. All's we have to do is find it."

Daryl and Rick woke everyone up and told them their plan.

"Any other suggestions?" Rick asked, taking Daryl's suggestion.

No one said anything. "Okay then," Rick cleared his throat," Let's head out then."

They divided up into the same groups as the day before. Carol walked over towards Daryl, a worried look etched into her face.

"What are you doing?" She asked, "Siding with him?"

"I will always side with him," Daryl said defensively, "he hasn't given me 'nough reason not to. But I did talk with him. Told him he doesn't get to make all the decisions for everyone. We vote from now on. I really think this is the only way. Surely if we drive long 'nough, we will hit somethin'."

Carol nodded, "I just don't want you becoming his henchman though. He's getting dangerous."

"I'll keep him in check," Daryl mounted the bike, "Get on."

Carol slid on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Even though they had ridden that way all of yesterday, Daryl still wasn't used to that touch.

"He's fine," Daryl tried again to calm her nerves, "He's scared as any of us."

"You don't seem scared of anything," Carol rested her head against his back.

Daryl grunted and started up the bike, not really knowing what to say to that. Truth was, he was just as scared as anyone else. He'd lost people too. Merle came creeping back into his thoughts.

_You'll never be able to lose me_, the voice in his head hissed. Daryl revved the bike, trying to drown out the voice as best he could.

They caravanned for quite a while. Rick and Lori didn't say anything the whole ride. Carl sat, awkwardly between them. He couldn't understand their anger. As much as he had liked Shane, his dad had done what he had needed to, right?

Rick drummed his hands on the wheel, and sighed. He desperately wanted to talk to his wife, to tell her that he would never willingly want to kill his best friend, his brother. Didn't she know that? Didn't she know that he had lost his brother that night? He had killed his brother.

"Sure I can't drive?" T-Dogg asked from the backseat.

"I'm sure," Rick replied.

"Going to the coast sounds nice now," Lori folded her arms across her chest, "Maybe you were on to something, T-Dogg."

"The coast?" Rick raised an eyebrow.

T-Dogg sighed; why couldn't Lori just keep her mouth shut, "Yeah," he hung his head, "I-I thought briefly about leavin' the group and just goin' to the coast yesterday instead of meeting at the rendezvous point."

"That so?" Rick glanced over at his wife, "And now you want to go?"

Lori didn't say anything. She stared intently at the fingernail she was picking at, unable to meet his gaze. She didn't understand her anger, and it scared her. Hadn't she wanted Shane dead? Hadn't he scared her? Hadn't she gone to Rick and told him her fears?

She wanted Shane gone from their lives, and Rick had done that. She had been right about Shane getting dangerous – he had planned to kill her husband. Rick was only defending himself, right? She knew she had no right to be angry, but she was.

She hated it, but she honestly missed Shane. He had done so much for her and, despite getting their wires crossed, she still cared deeply for her. And maybe it was that caring, that compassion towards him – that love – was what scared and angered her. It dawned on her that she wasn't really mad at Rick – she was mad at herself. But there was no way she would just say so. She wanted to be angry; she didn't want to speak to him at the moment. The silence let her think.

"_I asked you a __question_!" Rick snapped. Carl winced at the anger in his father's voice.

"Mom," Carl's voice sounded as if it were on the verge of snapping, "is that true? Were you just going to leave? And…you still want to?"

Lori ran a hand through her messy hair, unable to form the words she so desperately wanted to say.

"Mom?"

"Baby…your mama loves you very much…" she attempted, but could tell by the look in Carl's eyes that her attempt was failing.

"Maybe you should have just gone."

"Carl!" Lori snapped, "You don't mean that!"

"But it's what you want, right?" Carl asked, "You wanted to leave us and you still do. Dad didn't do anything wrong."

"Baby…"

Carl turned away from her and leaned his head against his dad's arm. Rick knew he should be angry at him for speaking to his mother like that, but then again, all he was doing was defending him.

"Well this is awkward."

"Shut up T-Dogg," Rick and Lori said in unison before glancing over at each other, then quickly looking away.

Rick sighed checked the radio for a CD. There was one, a collection of Irish drinking songs that looked like it was from the 90s. Rick put the CD back in and turned up the volume. He figured anything, at this point, would be better than the dreadful silence that hung over them.

Suddenly the motorcycle that was leading the group skidded, and bits of marred rubber flew up against the truck behind. The truck didn't stop in time, and also fell victim to the strand spikes. The station wagon behind the truck stopped barely in enough time.

Everyone clamored out of their vehicles to inspect the damage.

"Fuck!" Daryl kicked the bike, "What the fuck _was_ that?"

"Look," Glenn pointed to the road, "Spike strips. Someone must have put them out…but why? Walkers don't drive…"

"Unless they were after something other than walkers," Hershel suggested.

"Like what?" Lori chewed on her thumbnail and tried desperately not to look as nervous as she felt.

Daryl glanced up from mulling over the damage done to his motorcycle, "Like…us."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Warning: Language, language, language. I don't mean to be offensive to anyone, just writing characters how they'd be**_

_**Chapter Two: Danger**_

"Why would anyone do this?" Maggie looked to her father, "All we are trying to do is find safety."

"And maybe that's the problem," Hershel suggested, "Whoever did this clearly did so in order to stop drivers on the road. They must be protecting something – supplies, shelter – and want to keep whatever it is as far away from greedy hands as possible."

"Why didn't we think of this?" Glenn mused.

"'Cuz," Daryl snarled, "we don't _do _this."

"We just lost two of our vehicles," Rick ran a hand through his hair, "and we have got to go. I don't think any of us really want to stick around to meet whoever did this to our tires."

"How will we get anywhere?" Carol asked as Daryl started kicking the motorcycle again.

"We can clown-car it," T-Dogg proposed.

Rick tried to think of another option. They really didn't have time to sit around and debate what they were going to do. They needed to get as far away from the spike strips as possible. But how…

"Walking," Maggie suggested, "We can walk a bit and maybe stumble on some cars we can take. There's a prison not far from here which means we are close to the outskirts of the next town over, Shannon. If we can walk to Shannon, we should be able to find a car or two and get supplies."

"Walking would be pretty dangerous, right?" She turned to her husband who seemed surprised by her consulting him, "I mean, whoever did this to our tires can't be far off and we don't want to get tangled up with them. At least, inside our vehicles, we'd be a bit protected and Daryl drives fast enough anyways where he'd probably be fine…without the truck and the motor cycle…we're kind of…screwed."

"Don't think like that," Rick played the situation over again in his head, "How far is Shannon from the prison?"

"About ten miles."

"And the prison from here?"

"About five miles."

"Okay, then I think we should start walking. The women and Carl should take the station wagon. Daryl, Glenn, Hershel, and I will walk. We will have our weapons with us and will do the best we can. With us on foot, we should be somewhat of a protection detail for the station wagon. I say we head out."

Daryl nodded, "Sounds good to me. Anyone else?"

Everyone nodded and began moving items from the truck into the station wagon. Daryl didn't leave his motorcycle. He just stood there next to it, running his hand along the leather seat.

"When did you get it?" Carol asked.

"When I was eighteen," Daryl felt a little bad for kicking the crap out of it earlier, "Merle found it at some scrap shop and brought it home. He let it just kinda sit out in the yard for a while and I asked him if I could start fixin' it up and he didn't really give a damn so I did. It kept me busy, gave me somethin' to do. I used to love just goin' for rides on this ol' hunk of junk. Real cheesy stuff too, like ridin' off into the sunset and all that."

"I'm sorry about the tires. Can we fit it somewhere? Maybe we can tie it to the roof of the station wagon?"

"It ain't worth the trouble," Daryl tried not to let his emotions get the better of him, "I've been holdin' on to this thing for too long anyway. The whole world's gone to shit, Carol. With my bike, I felt like it wasn't quite so bad. I still had somethin' to hold on to, ya know? Without it…"

"Daryl!" Rick shouted to him, "T-Dogg, go help him with his bike over here. I got some rope from the truck. We can tie her down to the roof of the car if we lay her on her side."

"Rick…I dunno if it's worth…"

"Grab the damn rope Daryl, we don't got all day!"

Daryl frowned at the phrase he always used, but did as he was told anyway. Besides, it was nice of Rick to be trying to save his bike for him.

"Maybe we'll come across a dealership or scrap shop and we can replace the tires," Lori suggested as T-Dogg and Daryl worked on bringing the bike towards the station wagon.

Rick helped them hoist it up on to the roof of the car and the three of them began tying it down.

"That'd be nice," Daryl said, tightening a knot, "Thanks for this, Rick. I was just gonna leave 'er behind."

After making sure Daryl's bike was as secure as it could be, they headed out.

"What kind of person do you think would put up spikes like that?" Glenn asked as they began walking.

"A desperate person," Hershel answered.

They walked in silence for a while until the sounds of gunshots made them stop in their tracks.

"What the hell is that?" Lori shouted from inside the car.

"Everyone, down!" Rick shouted as he, Daryl, Glenn, and Hershel slid to hide behind the side of the car, "Stay down!"

Daryl raised his crossbow, "Can you see them?" He asked, panting, "Does anyone see them?"

"I don't see anything," Glenn was gasping for breath, trying to calm his heart rate.

More shots were fired.

"What do we do?" Lori rolled the window down on the men's side of the car, "What should we do?"

"How much room is in the car?" Rick asked her, "Can we fit?"

"I don't think so…"

More shots crackled through the air.

"We need to get out of here. Everybody in."

The men attempted to squeeze into the car as best as they could. There was hardly any room to breathe, but they were at least somewhat protected.

"Keep down," Rick ordered, "and try to keep your heads protected. Lori, get in the back with Carl. Put him on your lap and that'll make some more room. Throw out some of the supplies. We can get more later. I will drive."

The car doors on the passenger side were opened and the supplies were thrown out in a desperate need for more room. Rick and Lori switched seats and Lori sat in the back with Carl on her lap. She gripped her son tightly in her arms and the car began to speed away.

"Who the hell is doing this to us?" Maggi asked, "Why would they do this to us?"

"Someone very desperate," Hershel held her hand tightly, "Someone very scared."

Rick tried to keep his head down as he drove. He needed to get them out of there and as far away as possible. He needed to protect them.

"You're bleeding!" Carol cried, "Oh my God!"

"How bad is it?" Rick shouted from the driver's seat, "How bad is it?"

"It's just nicked is all," Daryl grunted, staring at the wound on his forearm, "No big deal."

"Here's a towel," Andrea handed it to Carol, "wrap it around the wound as tight as you…"

"It's fine," Daryl tried to shrug away, "Hell, I've lived through worse."

"Hush," Carol hissed at him, "and let me do this."

Once his wound was bandaged, the atmosphere seemed to calm. The gunfire had subsided, and everyone was just trying to catch their breath. Lori buried her face against Carl's back, trying not to let anyone see her cry. She almost lost Rick. Rick could have been shot. Her husband could have been killed. She couldn't…she just couldn't lose both Shane and Rick.

Daryl didn't notice until Carol gave a small squeeze that the two of them had been holding hands. Dumb woman had made such a fuss over his stupid cut. It was just a graze. The bullet didn't do any damage, and she had still managed to freak out over it. He looked down at her frail hand enclosed in his, and thought maybe, just maybe, someone freakin' out over you wasn't too bad a deal.

Maggie looked to Glenn with fear in her eyes. She had lost so many members of her family, and she couldn't bear to lose one more. She just wished all of this would be over and she could go on again with a normal life. She thought back to when she was a little girl and would fight with her dad about having to go clean out the chicken coop…what she would give to be cleaning out a chicken coop again.

"What the hell?" Rick slammed on the breaks.

A large group of men were standing in the middle of the road, facing the station wagon. They were all armed with machine guns.

"What now?" Daryl groaned and reached for his crossbow.

"Don't," Hershel stopped him, "Let's just try talkin' to them first…"

"They don't look exactly like they wanna sit down and chat over tea," Daryl rolled his eyes.

Rick waited until one of the men approached him before rolling down his window.

"Hey," he tried to sound calm, in control, "Our caravan got his by spike strips not far back and we're just tryin' to make it into town for supplies."

"Shannon?" The man asked, "You want to go into Shannon for supplies?"

"Yes," Rick nodded, "and then we will be right back on our way. My friend's motorcycle got hit by the spikes and we're just hopin' to pick up some tires, maybe another car or two, and some food. We don't need much, just a few things so if y'all would be so obliged to…"

"Get this," the man shouted to the others, "they think they're gonna go into Shannon for supplies."

The group of men all laughed. This whole thing made Rick very uneasy. Who were these men and what did they want?

"Nobody goes into Shannon for supplies, friend," the man smirked, "Nobody goes into Shannon for anything."

"Well then we'll just be drivin' right on through," Rick tried, but the man made a production of shifting his machine gun to his other arm.

"I think y'all need to step out of the car," he said, "And come with us."

"Why would we need to do that?" Daryl asked.

"Because I have a feelin' y'all would like to keep your heads on, am I right?"

Rick calmly opened his door and stood in front of the man. He noticed the stains on his white t-shirt – blood. He also noticed the heavy, black combat boots. Who were these men?

"Come on," Rick said to the group, without taking his eyes off the man standing before him, "Let's do as he says."

Daryl rolled his eyes and slid out of the vehicle, along with the rest of the group. Tensions were high and panic was close. No one knew what to do. They had their riffles and the crossbow, but these men were not going to move without a fight.

Lori grabbed onto Carl's shoulders as they stood next to Rick. She was absolutely stoic. They had gone through hell in the past two days; what else was going to be thrown at them?

"Now this is how this is gonna go down," the man drawled on, "my boys and I are gonna take you into Shannon. We are gonna take you to Shannon alright – don't you worry about that. But you see, Shannon is our territory. No one goes in, or out, without us knowing about it."

"Alright," Rick nodded, "I get it. Believe me, I get it. You've got your supplies and your families in Shannon that you need to protect. I really do understand. We won't trouble you at all…"

"Of course you won't," the man carried on, "We are also going to be a bit hospitable to you and take you to the Governor."

"The Governor?"

"You mean Mr. Adams?" Maggie asked, earning herself a snear from the man.

"Mr. Adams is dead, girlie. There's a new leader in town now, and he makes all the decisions. You will meet with him and he shall decide."

"Decide what?" T-Dogg asked.

"Look what we got here boys," the man grinned towards his gang, "We got a nigger and a chi…"

"Watch it," Daryl snarled, earning himself surprised glances from both T-Dogg and Glenn, as well as the others.

"Or what?" The man grinned a twisted grin towards Daryl, "I call 'em like I see 'em."

Daryl was about to go for him, when Rick put up a hand, "Daryl, let's not offend our um…"

"Hosts," the man said, "y'all are in our territory now. And you best get used to it."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I am so happy that this story has gotten such great reception. I had this idea playing in my head for a few days now, and decided to write it. The concept scared me. I've never written using so many characters in the so many scenes together. I was worried I couldn't pull this kind of writing off and that the characters would fall short. But I am happy that y'all seem to like it so far. Stick with it, please

Chapter Four: Frater Proditione

"We walk," the ringleader announced, "All of you, single-file. Let's go!"

"This one is injured," one of the men with the machine guns nodded towards Daryl.

"Well I'll be damned," another one of the men went over to examine his arm, "He looks just like the spittin' image of…"

"Shut up, both of you!" Their leader shouted, before taking a closer look at Daryl, "Well, I'll be. How about that."

Daryl looked as though the men had gone insane right before his eyes.

"What's wrong with him?" One of the men asked Rick.

"We were shot at. A bullet grazed his arm."

"Hmm…" the leader looked at the makeshift tourniquet before extending his hand towards Daryl, "I don't believe I introduced myself. I'm Hiram."

"Um…Daryl," Daryl shook the man's hand apprehensively.

"Don't worry, Daryl," Hiram grinned that same twisted grin, "once we take you to the Governor, he'll see to it that that arm of yours is fixed up proper."

"Um…thanks?"

"Let's go!" Hiram shouted, "Like I said, single-file!"

The men had them basically surrounded. Carol thought back to Daryl's story of the trail of tears. Was this what it was like? She scanned the grass along the highway for wildflowers – a sign – but found none.

"Sir," Rick was up front next to Hiram, "I am Rick Grimes and I am kind of the leader of this group of people and I just would like to take the time, while on our way to meet your governor, to get to know you a bit – considering you, like me, are a leader."

Hiram smirked, "Well, Rick Grimes, it's a pleasure to meet you. But I am no leader. I simply do what the Governor asks. And today, that is to bring y'all fine folk to meet him."

"Why all the interest in Daryl?" Rick inquired.

"I think all your questions will be answered when you meet with the Governor. Right now, I believe I asked for silence."

Rick shut up. The men carrying the machine guns were intimidating, and he was worried how Lori was holding up behind him. He longed to just hold her in his arms and tell her he was sorry. He wanted to hold and kiss his wife again. And what was going through her head? Did she even want to look at him again? Did she regret her angry words?

* * *

><p>They had been walking for about an hour and a half when Carol fell. Immediately, three men with machine guns, and Hiram, ran over to her.<p>

"What's wrong with her?" Hiram shouted out to no one in particular.

"She's weak," Lori was the one to answer, "We all are. We haven't had anything to eat yet today, and she's probably also dehydrated. She needs food and water."

Hiram sighed, "Beau, Judd, take her out into the woods and help her find something to eat. Then catch up to us. We don't have all day so make it quick."

"No."

Everyone turned to Daryl, "No."

"What do you mean, '_no_,'"" Hiram demanded, "Who said you have a say in anything that happens here?"

"_What are you doing_?" Carol murmured.

"I'll go with…Beau and Judd," Daryl suggested, "and she stays put."

Daryl knew that he was important to these men somehow. They clearly needed him for something, and he was guessing they needed him alive. They wouldn't shoot him out in the woods like they would probably Carol. He needed to be the one to go with them. It was a gamble, but it was a gamble Daryl was willing to make.

"Fine," Hiram said, "the three of you, go get some food – berries, nuts, something. Then catch up to us. Don't take too long."

Carol watched as the two men led Daryl off into the woods. She felt as though she'd be sick with worry. What would they do to him in there? Would he even be back? Would she see him again? Or would they lead him out into the woods to kill him? Her mind spun with questions.

"He'll be fine," Maggie tried to sound reassuring, "Try not to think about him too much."

"How can he just go with them?" Carol murmured.

"Because he'd rather go then have you go with them," Maggie explained, "I am sure he'll be fine. He can handle himself."

Carol nodded, Maggie did have a point. If anyone could handle themselves out in the middle of the woods against two men with machine guns, surely Daryl could…right?

* * *

><p>"Excuse me," Lori spoke up as the group continued walking, "my son and I…can we walk with my husband please?"<p>

The request surprised Rick, but he was grateful for the request all the same. He felt as though he'd just let out a breath he'd been holding onto all day.

Hiram cleared his throat, "I guess…but I don't want any funny business from the three of you."

"Don't worry," Lori promised, "we just want to walk with my husband."

After gaining permission, Lori and Carl hurried to the front of the line to stand with Rick. For a moment, he and Lori just stood there staring at one another, before running to embrace.

"Oh Rick," she cried, burying her face against his neck, "I am so sorry."

"Shh…" Rick tried to calm her, "it's alright, Lori. It's okay."

"I know you were just doing what you had to…"

"It doesn't matter right now. It's done and over. Now, we have to just keep moving. Carl, you doin' alright?"

"Yes sir," Carl nodded, "just a bit tired, but I'm keeping up."

"Good," Rick patted his son on the shoulder, "Good."

They continued onward, without stopping. Everyone was weak with hunger and ready to break down, but adrenaline kept them moving forward. After a while of walking, Beau and Judd returned…with Daryl. They had gathered some berries from a bush not too far into the woods, and together, the trio distributed them among the group.

"Thank you," Carol looked up at Daryl as she took the berries from his hand.

"Don't mention it," he shrugged.

They continued to walk until they reached the prison. The dark, looming building hung on the horizon like a storm cloud.

"This," Hiram announced, "is the Governor's mansion, if you will. He, along with all of his workers, live in the prison. It is the safest, most secure place for a long ways away. The good townspeople of Shannon, upon hearing of the security the Governor insured the prison would have, chose to work for him. Together, we keep Shannon along with the prison and our supplies safe."

"When do we get to meet with the governor?" Rick questioned.

"Soon," Hiram promised, "he's gonna want to make sure y'all are well taken care of, first. Especially that arm of yours," he nodded to Daryl.

Daryl glanced down at the crimson-permeated tourniquet. What was his importance to these men and who did they say he looked like? Obviously he meant something important to them…but what? Why did he matter so much to these men he didn't even know? He didn't recall getting on anyone's bad side in a long time. He had been with the group now for months…he hadn't had time to piss anyone off.

The prison was guarded by more men with machine guns on the roof. Rick felt very uneasy about the whole thing. Protection was a good thing…but walkers weren't that complicated. Was all of this really necessary?

Hiram pressed a button by the speaker near the front gate, "This is Hiram. Tell the Governor that we come bringing…gifts," there was that same demented grin again, and it made Rick want to throw up. He didn't understand what was going on, but he knew he didn't like it at all. Not one bit.

The gate squealed open and Hiram led them inside and up to the front of the prison. A metal door swung open, barely allowing enough time for everyone to be shuffled inside, before slamming shut behind them. Everything seemed automated, mechanical.

"Follow me," Hiram headed through the interior of the prison, "This is of course, a prison. A maximum security prison. Everything here is automated. The doors don't open unless a series of three pass-codes are typed in. The metal bars on the windows are all modified so that anyone who touches them will be electrocuted."

"Isn't this a bit…excessive?" Hershel asked, "I mean…they're just walkers."

"Walkers?" Hiram laughed a dry laugh, "That what the kids call it these days? The Governor's quarters are on the upper level. He has excellent accommodations."

"These cells," Rick noticed, "they have people in them."

The people in the cells looked broken. There were several people to each cell, and every person inside had eyes of death and despair. They looked utterly hopeless, utterly broken and destroyed. To Rick, they looked more dead than the walkers.

"Of course," Hiram smiled, "this is a prison after all. All of these people made a choice," he explained, "to either side with the Governor and do as he instructed, or be thrown in prison. They chose the latter. Our Governor promised these people protection. All they had to do in return, is serve him. Still, he chose to be merciful upon them, and instead of leaving them to their own devices, he keeps them safe in here. They receive food and shelter, all courtesy of the Governor they chose not to follow."

Lori's stomach twisted into a knot as she walked past a cell housing women and children. They all looked, despite Hiram's story of mercy, severely malnourished.

"Is this what you plan to do with us?" Maggie spoke up, "If we choose not to follow the governor?"

Hiram turned and smiled at her, "The smart decision is to follow the Governor. He will insure you're safety and your protection, all you have to do is devote yourself to him. These people were given a choice. A choice they chose against taking. The Governor will decide what is best to do with y'all."

"Lincoln," Hiram called to one of the men, "take this one to the infirmary and check on his arm."

Lincoln jerked his head to the side, indicating that Daryl was supposed to follow him. Once they were out of Hiram's earshot, Daryl began to try to get some questions answered.

"Lincoln, right?" Daryl asked, "What are we doing here, buddy? Why can't we just drive right on through? Y'all can even follow us to make sure we don't get distracted."

Lincoln led Daryl through a set of doors and down a flight of stairs into an underground bunker, "Because that is not what the Governor would want us to do with y'all."

"This governor of yours, he's pretty powerful, huh?"

"Yes," Lincoln nodded, "I swear…you look just like…never mind."

"Who?" Daryl demanded, "All of your men have been actin' like I'm some sort of alien or somethin' and I want some answers."

"The Governor will…"

"No!" Daryl slammed his fist against the cinderblock wall, "I want answers and I want answers now!"

"After I take care of your arm, I will take you to meet the Governor and you will have all of your questions answered then."

"You take me now!" Daryl barked, "Now, Lincoln!"

"I'm afraid…" Lincoln looked as if he was unsure of what to do, "Alright," he finally gave in, "I will tell the Governor that you insisted. He should be understanding of you…with you bein'…never mind."

All these unanswered questions were driving Daryl crazy. Why couldn't someone just flat-out tell him what was going on? Why did everyone have to beat around the bush so much? And who was this governor everyone worshipped so much?

"Follow me," Lincoln instructed, "I will take you to his quarters. You're worried about your friends, huh?"

"How did you…"

"You look nervous. Don't worry, no harm will come to them. The Governor just needs to talk with all of you, then he will decide what to do with you. He might let you just drive off," Lincoln tried to sound positive, he didn't want to worry their guests even more so than they already were, "who knows. It's up to him to decide."

Daryl followed Lincoln up another flight of stairs to the second story of the prison.

"Don't be nervous," Lincoln kept saying, "Everything will be fine once you meet with the Governor."

He paused at a set of metal doors before pressing the button on the speaker, "This is Lincoln…I have one of the new guests here to meet with you, sir."

"Bring him in," replied the gruff voice on the other end of the crackling speaker.

Daryl was hardly ever afraid of anything. He learned at an early age not to be afraid. Fear…emotions…they got you nothin' but a good whippin' in his household. But at that moment, that one, singular moment when those metal doors slid open, Daryl was terrified.

* * *

><p>"Come in," the governor said, facing away from them. He was seated at a desk in a leather swivel-chair. He didn't even turn around when they entered, "What is your name?" He addressed Daryl.<p>

"Um…Daryl…Daryl Dixon…uh…sir."

"Daryl Dixon," the voice sounded highly amused, "What a surprise. I've been lookin' for ya, Daryl Dixon. Yes sir, I have been lookin' all over for ya and now I finally found ya."

"Sir…"

"Good to know you haven't forgotten your manners," the voice chuckled, "after hangin' around with that pile of shit you call your new family."

"I…I don't understand," Daryl uncomfortably placed a hand on the nape of his neck, "I don't…"

"So you've been with them all this time," the voice chuckled again, "all this time. Unbelievable. What have you been doin' with a black and an Asian and a cop all this time, Daryl?"

"I-I don't think…"

"What?" The voice was bemused, "You don't like when I call that big black one a ni…"

"Stop," Daryl objected, "I…I used to talk like that too," he admitted, "before I really got to know 'em. They're real nice people. Glenn and I…we tracked some together and he ain't all that bad…just damn annoyin' sometimes but he ain't that bad…"

"So it does seem that you've forgotten some things while you've been with them. Like your values, Daryl."

"My values? I didn't have values."

"You mean your pa _never_ taught you values?" The voice was threatening.

"He taught me how to hate…that's 'bout all he did for me."

"Your pa never _sacrificed_ for you? Never taught you the values of _family_? Never taught you how to _appreciate_ and _respect_ what you have? Never taught you that _blood_ is thicker than anythin' out there? Your pa _never_ taught you any of that?"

"My _pa_," Daryl spat out the word as if it were a bad taste in his mouth, "was a coward and a drunk."

"How dare you!" the voice from the chair shouted, "_How dare you_! I expected so much more from you, Daryl…I expected you to hold true to your values…"

"Who are you?"

"Who am _I_? Don't you recognize my voice, _Daryl_? Or have you just forgotten everythin' an' anyone that's ever been somethin' to you?"

"I don't understand…"

The chair swiveled around, and Daryl was face to face with the governor, "Remember me now, _brother_?"


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N**: I hate racial slurs, but it's all for characterization. These slurs don't reflect me or my beliefs about people and I really don't want to offend anyone at all. You're talkin' to the girl that broke down and cried when she had to say the f*g word while reading an excerpt for her speech class on hate crimes. So please, don't be offended. If I hurt any of my readers at all in any way, it'd break my heart._

_**Chapter Four: Trial**_

Daryl was floored. He couldn't believe it. Merle was the governor. It took him a moment to regain his breath, as he stared in shock at the brother he hadn't seen in months. It seemed like forever ago since he had last seen him.

"Merle? You're the governor?"

"Yeah _baby brother_, I am," Merle grinned, "While you took off with Rick and his gang, I had to fight and fend for myself. When I stumbled upon Shannon, it seemed like the perfect plan. It was just sittin' there waitin' for somethin' to come along. So I went out and recruited some guys like us, Daryl. Some guys who know how to handle other guys. They helped me take over Shannon. We marched in with our whole arsenal that we worked to stock up and took over. We gave the people two options – side with me and be my men, or be thrown into the prison cells."

"You took over a whole town?" Daryl was still utterly shocked.

"With the help of my men, it wasn't hard. I never stopped thinkin' about you, baby brother. I figured you'd be safe…but I still fussed over you. And now look at you! All 'a Pa's hard work gone to shit. You're hangin' around with chinks and niggers…"

"You don't even know them," Daryl objected.

"An' I don't wanna. If Pa could see you now…he'd knock your skull in," Merle smirked, "But I like you, baby brother, so I am gonna give you the option of bein' my right hand man. You and me, we'd be partners. We'd run this prison with iron fists and it'd be just you an' me."

"Right hand man?" Daryl raised a suspicious eyebrow.

He knew better than to trust Merle about anything. This was his brother, after all. The brother who'd make up lies about Daryl just to watch their father beat him. The brother that'd laugh when his dad beat him until he could no longer stand. The brother that'd lock him in the cellar as a kid just to hear him cry. Daryl always assumed it'd be him and Merle forever, that he was stuck with him. It wasn't until being with Rick and the rest of the group, that Daryl realized how people that care about one another treat each other.

Merle never cared about Daryl. Merle never cared about anyone; and now here he was, asking Daryl to be his right hand man? The prospect was overwhelming to Daryl.

"Merle…I don't know what to say?"

"Simple," Merle grinned a twisted grin, "Say yes, baby brother. Say yes and together, you an' me, we'll run Shannon and this prison. We'll make sure we are safe. We'll watch out for each other…"

"Like you'd watch out for me while Pa went at me?"

"Pa was doin' what needed to be done. You were weak," Merle jeered, "You were weak an' Pa did what was best for you. He tried to toughen you up. He made you a man."

"A man?" Daryl ran a hand through his messy hair, "Pa didn't know a thing about bein' a man."

Merle stood from the desk, and snapped his fingers. Lincoln approached Daryl and, right on cue, the butt of his gun collided against Dale's shoulder. The man let out a cry of pain.

Merle only laughed, "Seems like you done forgot everythin' Pa instilled in you. Looks like I'm gonna have to be the one to teach you about your values."

Daryl clutched his shoulder and tried to fight against the pain that was searing through his arm and his spine. The pain of the impact was enough to make Daryl dizzy.

"You've gotten soft," Merle leered, "but don't worry – I'll fix that for ya," Merle nodded toward a screen on the wall, "I've been watchin' you since you arrived. That skinny whore, the one with the dyke hair, you seem soft on her."

Daryl managed to choke out, through the pain, "She just lost her whole family. I…I look out…for…her."

"Ah," Merle nodded, "But that bitch will get bored of you. What good are you to her? She's just desperate. She could care less about what happens to you. But you…you seem to care an awful lot about her…"

Daryl suddenly realized the thought that was going through Merle's head, "No," he cried out, "You leave her alone, Merle."

Merle sat back down in his chair and propped his combat-boot-clad feet up on the desk, "If you don't side with me…I'm just gonna have to hurt her, baby brother."

Daryl's mind was racing with pulsing thoughts. Everything was just too much for him to comprehend. All he could put together for the time-being was that Merle intended to use the group to get at Daryl. He'd hurt every one of them until Daryl finally agreed to side with him.

Carol already considered him Rick's henchman…what would she think of him now that he would be Merle's right hand man? All this time she had tried to tell him that he was better than his past. Now, he'd have to abandon everything – his friends, his loved ones, his brothers, his sisters…for their safety. He needed to protect them. If siding with Merle meant that they would be kept from harm, then that's what he would just have to do.

"Alright," Daryl gave in, "Alright. I'll do it. I'll be your man."

"Good," Merle stood and embraced Daryl, "I'm so glad to have you back, baby brother. Welcome home."

* * *

><p>Daryl's first order of business was to address the group with Merle. It was a task that he was not looking forward to at all. What would they think of him? Rick…Rick had confided in him and asked him to be his right hand man. He was abandoning Rick for Merle. Rick was more of a brother to him than Merle ever was or ever could be. Rick believed in him. Rick respected him. And then there was Carol…Carol who had tried so hard and for so long to convince Daryl that he mattered, that he was more than just the sum of his past and his past mistakes. She'd seen a heart within him that he didn't even know he had.<p>

And now, he'd have to face them and tell them all that he wanted to side with Merle. It was the only way to ensure their safety. Daryl hung his head as he and Merle stood up on the balcony overlooking the first story of the prison.

"Howdy," Merle called, "Remember me? Remember leaving me on the roof to die? Remember taking off and leaving me as if I was nothin' to y'all?"

Rick's face was as white as a sheet. All this time, Merle not only had survived, but had taken over a town and practically built up a small army? Then he noticed Daryl standing right next to his brother, his head hung as if there was a yoke resting on his shoulders.

"My God," Lori put her hand to her lips in shock. She couldn't believe that Daryl was standing right there next to his brother.

"Daryl would like to say somethin' to y'all," Merle shoved Daryl forward.

"Um…" Daryl cleared his throat, "I…I finally found my brother," he attempted a smile, "and it's good to be reconnected with him again. Merle's offered me a pretty big position…and I couldn't say no…um…he asked me…" Daryl paused, earning himself a glare from Merle, "…to be his uh…right hand man. I couldn't say no to my brother…so I…I will be workin' with him now."

His eyes fell on the woman whom he had come to care so deeply about. She was standing there, shaking her head, looking as if she had just seen a ghost. He longed to run to her and to hold her and to tell her that this wasn't him…that he was doing this all for her, for all of them. But he couldn't. He just had to stand on that damn balcony, and say the speech which Merle had instructed him to say.

"…So I will be with him from now on."

Merle clapped as if Daryl had just given an inaugural address, "Our first order of business," he smiled that same twisted smile, "is to make sure our lovely guests are taken care of. Daryl, go downstairs and put half of them in Cell 94 and the other half of them in Cell 95."

Daryl hung his head as Merle handed him the keys to the prison cells. Daryl slowly walked down the steps and over to the group. He had never before felt such shame as he divided up the group to lock them away as if they were animals.

"Um…Rick, Lori, Kid, and Hershel," Daryl nodded to Cell 94, "y'all will be together in that cell there. Uh…Carol, Maggie, T-Dogg, and Glenn...y'all will be in Cell 95."

"Why are you doing this?" Carol asked him, her eyes swimming in tears. That one glance was enough to break Daryl's heart in two.

"He's my brother…" Daryl said coldly, feeling Merle's stare on the back of his neck. He paused, and looked right at Rick as he continued, "…workin' with him? That's one of them good decisions."

He herded the two groups into their designated cells. Merle clapped again as the door shut on the last cell, "Good job, baby brother. We'll worry with them tomorrow. Tonight, you and me have a lot of catchin' up to do."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe Daryl," Lori hugged Carl close to her as she sat down on one of the beds in the cell, "How can he just do this to us?"<p>

"Yeah," Glenn held on to the bar's that separated their cells, "I mean, I know he's a jerk but I never thought…"

"Guys," Rick interrupted, "Daryl said somethin' to me that I think was a code or a hint at somethin'. He said that workin' with his brother is 'one of them good decisions.' He said earlier this morning to me that same line, 'one of them good decisions.' I think he was trying to tell me something."

"Like what?" T-Dogg asked, "That's he's a piece of shit?"

"We all know Daryl," Rick continued, "somethin' must be up. I have a feelin' that Merle is using him. I think he's done something to him to make him act like this…maybe threatened him…or even threatened us to get at Daryl. All I know is that we can't turn our backs on him. Think of all he has done for us. He has risked his life for us on more than one occasion. He's fought for us, he's fought for our children. He's been there for us."

Carol glanced up from the bed she was sitting on, "You really think that's why he's doin' this to us?" She asked, "That he was threatened into it?"

Rick sighed, not really knowing the answer himself, "I know Daryl is a good man. We can't doubt him now. Whatever he's doing, he has his reasons for doing. We can't give up on him."

"He's given up on us," Carol's comment was acrid.

Rick shook his head and went over to Lori and wrapped an arm around her. He knew Daryl. He knew Daryl had risked everything to save them. What about what he had done for Sophia? He had taken a bullet for that little girl…how could they all just forget that?

"One of them good decisions."

He was doing what he felt needed to be done. As hard as it was, Rick knew that he needed to just trust Daryl on this one. Daryl was the leader now. Daryl was the one deciding. And now it was up to Rick to back him on it.


End file.
